


Tacos and Tostones

by entirely_too_tall



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, and then they hang out, kent buys tacos, kent runs into alicia zimmermann also buying tacos, kent visits home for holiday, that's it that's the fic, tostones are also involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entirely_too_tall/pseuds/entirely_too_tall
Summary: Kent was not ready to run into star model-actress Alicia Zimmermann in his favourite hole-in-the-wall taqueria in Harlem. For one thing, this washistaqueria. There’s only enough room for one celebrity per neighbourhood taqueria, thank you very much.





	Tacos and Tostones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garden of succulents (staranise)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/staranise/gifts).



> Prompt: I want Bob and Alicia to be supportive to Kent, whether just as fans or surrogate parents, who are there for him as he finds happy life even though he and Jack aren't an item anymore.
> 
> There's no Bob here except a passing mention, I hope that's ok with you! I did have Bob in a previous draft, but Alicia ended up being good enough to stand alone in a fic with Kent so I left him out. Kent is a mama's boy and he'll get another mother to treat him kindly because that's what he deserves.
> 
> Also I suck at titles. Thanks to [ladymars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymars/pseuds/ladymars) for looking over this!
> 
> Check Please and its characters belong to Ngozi, I am only expanding upon it for our collective non-commercial pleasure.

Kent was not ready to run into star model-actress Alicia Zimmermann in his favourite hole-in-the-wall taqueria in Harlem. For one thing, this was _his_ taqueria. There’s only enough room for one celebrity per neighbourhood taqueria, thank you very much. For another, she’s chatting up the owner Imelda who will tell the Morenos at the bodega who will tell his old neighbours who will tell his mamá that star model-actress Alicia Zimmermann was there, and he did not need his mamá to give him that look again. That “my mijo had his heart broken and I can’t get him to get over it and date that nice Sanchez boy whose father owns that successful meat-packing-and-distribution business” look.

Unfortunately for him, Imelda noticed him and called out across the entire room from behind the counter, “Vincente!” Which was perfect. Now Alicia knew his full name and could brew up a brujería curse on him for breaking her son’s heart all those years ago. He did not need this drama right now. He was on holiday, it was his bye week, and was such a good son to visit his mother. Why did fate hate him so?

“Vincente! Come give me a kiss, and I’ll give you your favourite fish tacos,” Imelda called, ignorant of, or actively ignoring, his desire to flee.

Grudgingly, Kent went up to the counter and kissed her cheeks, and was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, as usual. Imelda could rival any NHL player in her upper body strength, he was sure of that.

Alicia stood there with a sly smile on her face, and as soon as Kent turned to greet her, Imelda pounced, chattering about how Alicia was so nice and pretty and down-to-earth, and you also know her too, Vincente? What a small world. Or maybe all you famous people know each other. Did you know, Alicia, that when he was young …

Alicia laughed at all the right times, which was to say at all the anecdotes Imelda related at his expense while she fixed up his fish tacos. Kent just tried to smile through it all, though he imagined his face looked like more of a grimace, and just accepted the tacos from Imelda, instead of performing their usual game of him insisting to pay and her refusing the money. He might even have forgotten to say goodbye when he slipped out the door as quickly as possible, though he must have remembered because she would never let him get away with that. Literally. She once walked out the door and yelled down the street at him until he came back and properly said goodbye.

“She was so sweet, that Imelda,” Alicia said next to Kent, and startled him so badly he nearly dropped his tacos. It was his one stroke of good luck today that he didn’t. Both Imelda and his mamá would skin him if he did. 

“How do you always walk so fast and so quietly in those heels of yours?” Kent asked, exasperated at how she suddenly appeared to be an apparition following him around.

“Finishing school,” she said, completely serious, not picking up on Kent’s frustration.

“Why are you here anyway?” Kent asked, hoping she was there for innocuous reasons. Bob had been known to show up at random lately, ostensibly to keep up with the hockey crowd, even though it seemed that the hockey crowd tended to coincidentally be near where Kent was at the time.

“Oh! My sister recommended it to me. She’s heard about it from her client for a while now and finally tried it and then made me promise to go. It’s only taken me 3 years,” she said, slightly sheepish.

“You have a sister?” That was news to Kent. He never heard about Jack having an aunt, though Jack tended not to talk about his family much anyway.

“Yes, she’s a lawyer in the city. My mom would say she saved up all the brains for her, because I already took all the beauty,” Alicia explained with a little laugh. Kent must have made a face, though, because she added, “Yes, it was exactly as rough as you think our childhood must have been, me being called a pretty airhead and Sabine an ugly nerd by our own mother. Mom was a bit rough around the edges but for all her faults, she was ultimately very loving. Sabine and I outgrew any resentment and we all made up long ago.”

“Uh…” Kent was unsure why he was witness to this information now, or how it related to him. As it was, he simply said, “That’s cool.”

“Anyway, the tacos were very good! You get yours from there often, it seems? Imelda was glowing when she saw you, Vincente,” Alicia said with a slight smirk, putting an end to the sibling thread. Kent never found tacos so terrifying a subject.

“Yeah, haha, yeah… Um, I grew up in this neighbourhood, and my family always went to Imelda’s because her place was the best. Still is,” Kent replied. He was unaccustomed to lone attention from Alicia, since he and Jack always hovered around Bob and trained with him whenever they visited, and only had Alicia in the context of when Bob was also around. Was this what she was like as a mother when alone with Jack?

“And Vincente? Why does she call you that?” she asked, curious. 

Kent did not think he would be blushing at this age, but her earnestness made him self-conscious. People around him typically wanted something from him, and he knew how to play along with that script. Alicia being here in his neighbourhood, near his home, being just as kindly and sincere as everyone else was slightly disorienting, even as he knew that she had always been such to him.

“It’s my middle name. Most people here know me by Vincente because Kent is too Anglo-Saxon for them,” Kent said with a small laugh at the end. “I like it, it’s something that belongs here at home. Just here, where I’m not some hockey superstar, just a kid down the block that’s done good for himself and visits not often enough.”

“I think that’s very sweet, Vincente. Very sweet,” Alicia said, with a soft smile that reminded him so much of Jack it reminded him how much children become versions of their parents. How much Kent was still his mamá’s son.

“Well, this is my place.” They had arrived at the front of Kent’s old apartment building, where his mamá still lived. He turned to look at Alicia and took a deep breath. “Do you, um, wanna come in?”

Jack had never met his mamá. None of his friends had, really. It’s not something that was on the forefront of his mind, being that his mamá couldn’t travel and understood literally zero hockey so she never went to his games, and he wanted to keep this small part of his childhood life to himself. He wouldn’t have turned anyone down if they asked to visit, but nobody ever did anyway. 

Somehow his ex-boyfriend’s mother was here unwittingly invading his childhood sanctuary by buying tacos, and he’s going to invite her in because he was raised with proper manners. 

“Sure, it would be nice to meet your family.”

He’s finally going to have his and Jack’s mother meet, and it’s only after they’ve been apart for 7 years. His mamá was never going to let him live this down. 

Kent led Alicia up the stairs and to his apartment, where he called out to his mamá and announced Alicia’s unexpected arrival.

“Mamá, we have a guest! It’s Alicia Zimmermann, Jack’s mom. We ran into each other at Imelda’s and I asked her to come up.”

“Oh! Welcome, welcome!” Her voice came from around the hall before she arrived, but soon enough, a small, slim woman in a yellow gingham apron appeared to greet Alicia in a hug and two kisses.

“How nice to see you! Alicia Zimmermann, is it? Jack’s mother, yes? Come in, come in and sit down. Oh, wait, you have tacos too? Why not we all go to the dinner table and have our meal together! Yes, let’s do that,” she said, immediately ushering Alicia towards the dining area. For her part, Alicia was taking the attention with utmost grace, no doubt from years of experience being herded around backstage, Kent thought.

“Chente, go bring set the table, and remember to bring the drinks as well! They’re in the fridge.” Kent’s mother then turned to Alicia with a smile. “I’ll finish cutting up the fruit and I’ll be with you very quick, make yourself at home.”

Kent brought out the plates, cups, and cutlery, then the mixed juice which he poured for everyone, before sitting down and feeling slightly awkward. Alicia took his mamá’s exuberance in stride, but he’s not sure where the day was going. 

Luckily for him, Mamá came out nearly immediately after he sat down and set the bowl of cut fruit down on the table. Strawberry, mango, and pineapple cubes sweated their juices into the bowl. It looked really appetizing so Kent reached out to grab some, but his hand was swatted away.

“Chente! You leave this house and forget the Lord!” Mamá scolded in Spanish. Kent mumbled an apology back while she turned to Alicia and held out her hand and said, “May we say grace before we eat?”

“Of course, go ahead,” Alicia replied, slipping her hands into Kent’s and his mamá’s.

She said a short prayer in English for Alicia’s benefit, and after their amens chimed together, they dug into their tacos while Kent sulkily ate his fruit. 

“Ay, I forgot to introduce myself. Chente, you didn’t say anything!” Kent simply continued to sulk at his fruits, because when did he ever get to say anything edgewise when his mamá was talking anyway. “My name is Catalina, but everyone calls me Cati.”

“Thank you for letting me eat with you, Cati,” Alicia said with a smile, and then added after she took a bite out of her taco, “and these tacos from Imelda are very good, aren’t they! Wow, I must thank my sister for telling me about them.”

“Yes, they are simply the best around! It’s good that your sister is spreading the word! Imelda isn’t getting as much business nowadays, when so many young ones are leaving the barrio.”

“What?!” Kent sat up and exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me that! Imelda’s business is going down?”

“No, Chente, she’s doing fine for now. It’s just all you children moving away and the local businesses are all seeing fewer faces nowadays. We’re happy for you all. Don’t concern yourselves with our old worries, we’ll make it. We always have.”

Kent was not placated by Mamá’s reassurances, feeling acutely guilty for being one of the many of his generation to have left for better opportunities. 

“I’ll be sure to spread the word of Imelda’s tacos,” Alicia added, earning her a grateful smile from mamá.

“Thank you, Alicia. You and your sister both.” 

They fell into easy conversation after, both Alicia and Mamá complimenting each other (“You look even more pretty in person than on those posters.” “You’re too kind. Your drapery, they’re all so well made.”) and talking about how Kent and Jack were as young boys. Kent stayed silent and let them talk, though he felt mortified, hoping nobody would bring up his and Jack’s history together.

Thankfully, Alicia’s phone started ringing, and she apologized before picking it up to answer her sister’s call. Kent took the opportunity to escape by bringing the plates to the kitchen to wash up.

By the time he was finished —which was very little time, really— and returned to the dining area, he found Alicia looking at the photos on the wall in the living room, Mamá standing next to her with a look on her face. The one she gets when talking about Papi. 

“Kent, you look just like your father!” Alicia said when she noticed him returning.

“Yeah, everyone tells me that.” 

Kent didn’t talk about his papi much, because everyone would remind him of how similar they looked. The same with Jack, which was how they bonded over being in their father’s shadow. Except Jack fell apart from the pressure to step out of the shadow, while Kent soared high above it. It helped that Kent’s papi was not a legendary hockey player that would be mentioned in the same breath as his own name, but a local hero for being a first responder lost to 9/11. No one expected him to give his life away.

No one expected Jack would give _his_ life away.

“I’m glad I got to see a picture of him,” Alicia said, pulling Kent out of his melancholic daze he always went into when he thought too much about Jack. She turned to face Kent fully, searching his face, probably to compare him to Papi. He squirmed under the gaze. What was being paid to push a pound of rubber around compared to saving lives? 

Eventually, she turned back to look at the picture again, the one of Kent and Mamá and Papi at the fire station, when they had the company Thanksgiving for those on shift during the holidays. Benjamin Parson was smiling, looking ever like Kent did now, except much freer and unguarded. Kent often wished he could smile like that one day for a camera, with a partner and family. He had resigned himself to never having that, his hopes brought up only to be dashed to pieces when Jack turned him away at the Zimmermann door after the overdose.

“Thank you for inviting me to have dinner with you,” Kent heard Alicia say from across the room near the door and jolted his head. He must have missed something Alicia said in between, his mind taken back to his younger days upon seeing papi’s picture. It distracted him from his good life now, and was why he didn’t like to stay home much.

“I must be going soon, I'm meeting my sister and her client for some drinks. Apparently, I've been promised to make an appearance.” 

“You are a star! So pretty and famous. We all love you in this barrio! Of course they would want to see you,” mamá exclaimed, apparently not having gotten over her star-struck wonder.

“Thank you, you are too kind,” Alicia demurred. “You know, would you like to join us? Both of you. We’re going to La Cubana, which is just nearby. I’ll buy you both a drink. After all, you both have been so sweet to host me today.”

“Ay no! We can’t possibly let you pay for us! We’ll go, but you don’t need to treat us. We loved having you over, didn’t we?” Mamá replied, turning to Kent at the last part.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah!” Kent caught up with himself and the conversation in time to chime in. “It’s been great having you here.” 

“Alright, but I won’t promise my sister wouldn’t try to do the same.”

At that, they all gathered themselves, Mamá changing into something presentable (she wore her apron throughout dinner), and left for La Cubana, walking down the streets still warm from the late sunset. 

The made more small talk on the way, Kent and Mamá pointing out places or people they knew, and Alicia nodding and humming along. It was pleasant, Kent realized, to walk and have these things pointed out, things that he would have otherwise left forgotten. Having both Mamá and Alicia here together brought forward these stories again, and he realized he missed the feeling of being connected to a place and its particular personal histories, to the people who lived there. Being shuttled all around the country as it were for his job, and driving around to avoid getting mobbed in Vegas, he realized he felt disconnected, and promised himself he would try to stake out a part of the city for him and his friends, like Swoops and maybe Scraps.

They arrived at La Cubana, and upon entering, a tall and rather plump woman stood up and made her way over to Alicia, bringing her into a hug. She must be Sabine. 

“Alicia, you made it! Thank goodness, I was starting to think I’d have to bring the Sanchezes to you,” she said, her voice very much like Alicia’s, despite looking only marginally like her. 

“Sanchez? As in Raul Sanchez, owner of the meat business?” Mamá asked, perking up at the name. Kent had to physically hold back a groan. Really, fate? Really?

“Ah yes. Sabine, this is Cati and Kent. I invited them along, if you don’t mind,” Alicia said, making late introductions for them all. “I had those tacos with them for dinner, and they were as delicious as you said. That part I’ve already told you over the phone.”

“Of course, of course. The more the merrier. I’m Sabine, Alicia’s sister. Nice to meet you,” Sabine came to shake hands but was pulled into a hug by Mamá. Kent kept to the handshake. 

“Nice to meet you too, Sabine. Your recommendation brought Alicia to my door, so I have to thank you for that. It was so nice to talk to her.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, those tacos must be magical. Connections brought all around through them! And yes, that is in fact Raul at our booth, with his son—”

“His son Daniel!” Mamá interjected. “Chente, you two haven’t seen each other in so long, what luck!” Kent rolled his eyes, what luck indeed. Mamá really needed to get it into her head that she can’t just expect him to fall for—

Kent had glanced at the booth where Raul and Daniel were sitting and his train of thought vanished as he was confronted with a grown up Daniel laughing with his head thrown back, his muscular body showing under his tight shirt. Kent found himself very, very attracted.

Just his luck that Daniel, of all people, would have a fucking glow-up like that kid that played Neville. The last Kent saw him was before he even hit puberty since Daniel was still quite young when Kent had left for juniors hockey. Now he’s here, looking unfairly pretty, and Kent wants to find the personification of fate and have a few strong words.

“He’s just graduated from college too, with a double in Business and Psychology,” Sabine added, because of course Kent would be so obvious in his staring, probably projecting naked want all over the place, enough to elicit matchmaking efforts from complete strangers.

Before he could answer, Sabine herded them all over to the booth and unsubtly herded him in to sit next to Daniel, sandwiched between him and mamá, which was mega uncomfortable and probably a special circle in hell. 

Kent occupied himself with the menu and ordered himself a strawberry daiquiri, because he might as well enjoy at least something when he’s there, but that only proved to be a very short affair. He considered taking out his phone to manage his photos of Kit on her Instagram, but that would be rude. He tried to pay attention to the conversation at the table, but his brain was unhelpfully going _cute boy pressed up against your shoulder and thigh pay attention to him hello why are you denying yourself good things in life_ and it was all very difficult to focus on anything at all.

Unluckily, or luckily, Raul gesticulated too strongly and knocked over his beer onto the tostones. An opportunity to escape! Kent quickly pulled out napkins to stop the overflow and then made noises about going to the bar to buy another beer and tostones, not stopping for Raul’s protests as he scrambled out of the booth past his confused mamá.

As he caught a bartender’s attention and waved her over, Daniel sidled up to him and bumped their shoulders together, an altogether mortifying experience that Kent wanted to happen again, because he’s apparently a teenager at this point. He even managed to watch Daniel finish ordering and paying for the beer and tostones before realizing that he was the one who was supposed to do that. Before he could stutter anything out to save himself, Daniel turned to him and smirked.

“So, golden boy. Never lost your cool charm, I see.” 

Goddamn, Kent did not deserve this teasing.

“Wow, rude. First, I’m older than you, let’s not forget that. Second, nobody calls me golden boy anymore. We’re not in 2008 still.”

“Right, nobody calls you that to your face, you mean,” Daniel retorted right back. When did he get the right to be so cocky?

“But alright, I’ll respect the elderly,” he continued, just as the bartender returned with the beer and a number for the tostones. Daniel picked up the beer, clearly flexing his arm, then turned with a wink before heading back to the booth, giving Kent a good look at his ass. Which Kent did not stare at. Nope, not at all. He only peeked, okay?

“Why am I such a thirsty bitch?” Kent muttered under his breath as he took off after Daniel to return to the booth and rejoin the circle of hell, with the flames ever hotter.

It turned out though that the whole incident broke the ice between them, and Kent spent the rest of the night just talking to Daniel about everything and nothing. They caught up on each other’s years away from the barrio, and it turned out that Daniel was funny and smart and was on the varsity wrestling team and paid no attention to hockey whatsoever. He listened to Kent’s shenanigans and rants and regaled his own, and by the end of the night, Kent could not remember anything happening beyond their little bubble. 

As he happily walked out the door of the pub with Daniel, late into the night, them straggling behind the rest of the group, Kent realized he didn’t want it to end. He hadn’t felt so free and giddy to know someone since Jack. Even the reminder of Jack didn’t dampen his spirits, so he knew he was definitely far gone.

But he was also with Mamá, and he imagined Daniel would feel the same about Raul being around to witness the next step of what was basically a successful mating dance. As it were, they just hugged goodbye and promised to text each other, Daniel having slipped his phone number in earlier when he took Kent’s phone, ostensibly to better see the pictures of Kit.

Alicia and Sabine also took their leave in front of the bar. As Alicia hugged Kent, she lingered and whispered, “I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished, and who you are. Don’t worry about us, about Jack. That boy makes you smile, go get ‘em.”

With a pat on his head and another quick thanks directed at Mamá, they both left, leaving him with Mamá to make their way back home. 

Kent felt something shift inside, something small and light. Hope is a thing with feathers, he was suddenly struck with a memory of that phrase. A little songbird in his heart, trilling a hopeful ditty. His budding relationship Daniel was a part of that shift, and he definitely wanted to pursue it, but it was also the tacos and Imelda’s fussing, the kids running around the street in the waning sunlight, the gentleness of being seen by Alicia, the familiarity of walking by Mamá’s side. His past had guided him to this, melding the paths together to a shining present with a map of the future, the stumbles in his past finally smoothening out. 

He took his mamá’s hand and held it, just like when he was young and small, feeling the lightness he forgot he had at that age, even if he’s bigger now and she was the one who’s small. They walked home together, as Mamá chattered on about the Sanchezes and Alicia and Sabine and anyone she could think about, and Kent Vincente Parson listened and smiled his hopeful, feathered smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> \+ Imelda is named after the sweet janitor in my office building who always stops to chat with me if I stay late at work. This one is for you.  
> \+ Imelda is also modelled after Abuela Claudia from In The Heights. Basically, this fic was the result of me listening to the In The Heights soundtrack at work.  
> \+ If I every write any character from NYC, they will be affected by 9/11 one way or another. It's just impossible not to. Ask me about my Nursey 9/11 hcs, I dare you.  
> \+ Attributions: "Hope is a thing with feathers", line misremembered from Emily Dickinson. "There's a songbird in his heart", idea by Charles Bukowski in Bluebird. "Why am I such a thirsty bitch", the most glorious quote from [SharpZero](http://sharpzero.tumblr.com/post/155484304662/read-it-from-the-beginning-tapastic-twitter)  
> \+ I wrote 1.5k as setup and scrapped it because the shift in tone was too jarring and would require an extra 6k at the end to wrap up. I might create a series to finish it up someday, but the emotional tones would be all over the place, jsyk.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
